


Keiria Bellerose: Lost in Azeroth

by TimelessVellichor



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Battle for Azeroth, BfA, Gen, Kal'dorei, Nazmir, Nelf, Night Elf, Pandaren - Freeform, Sin'dorei, Troll - Freeform, belf, blood elf, demon hunter - Freeform, druid, tauren - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimelessVellichor/pseuds/TimelessVellichor
Summary: After being freed from her imprisonment within the Vault of the Wardens, Keiria finds herself thrust into a changed world. New tensions, new tragedies, and new people fill an Azeroth that Keiria is suddenly not so familiar with...





	1. Up a Tree

**Author's Note:**

> The chapters of this story will be featuring my Blood Elf DH's adventures through Battle for Azeroth. Playing on Moon Guard, I've had some pretty interesting experiences - most of these are inspired directly from events I've had in-game, and as such I'll post the in-game inspiration for each story at the end notes. Each chapter should be able to stand as a one-off story... this is my first time posting a fanfiction online, and also my first time posting to AO3, so if I've formatted something incorrectly please let me know so I can fix it!
> 
> I've tried to keep my works as lore-accurate as i can, all things considered. I've taken a bit of my own interpretation of certain aspects of the universe, especially Demon Hunters, based on descriptions of Illidan from official Warcraft novels - namely that Spectral Sight *cannot* be turned off, and that Demon Hunters can still perceive what's around them visually through auras; rather than just being able to see "magic and energy" (which I felt was a bit of a blanket term/description), I've interpreted this to also apply to emotions and physical health. The color of the aura that Keiria sees is influenced by the type of magic, how healthy the person/creature is, and what they're feeling at the time. The aura becomes dimmer or brighter based on the strength of the creature in question. (Strong emotions and physical strength will brighten an aura - conversely, sickly/near death creatures, or ones who aren't particularly influenced by their emotions or magic, will be dimmer.)
> 
> Thank you for reading my stories - I'd love any kind of review or critique you could offer so that I can improve going forward! (And if you want to RP with me, or discuss an interaction idea for a story here, my Battletag is Iraelli#1320, or Discord PippinDraws#0237 - Bellerose is on Moon Guard, and I'm happy to chat with anyone!)

 

_Keiria endures a night in the swamps of Nazmir stuck up a tree…. With a Kal’dorei Druid for company._

 

* * *

 

Wind rushed through Keiria’s hair, roaring in her ears as she barreled headlong down the mucky, overgrown path, bent low over the neck of her mount; thorns and brambles tugged at her horns and skin as they whipped by, but Keiria paid them no mind. A shrill whistle from behind was the only warning she had before a poison-tipped spear screamed past her ear, embedding itself deeply into the ground they had been running on just moments before. Cursing, she buried her fingers deeply into the thick ruff of her riding wolf, urging the beast on faster with an urgent squeeze of her thighs. Behind them she could hear the whooping battle-shouts of Blood Trolls, nearly upon them now as the swamp slowed their flight to safety.

She scanned the path ahead wildly, searching beyond hope for an escape from their pursuers. Though her eyes were long gone, burned out by smoldering orbs of felfire, the landscape around her was lit with a shifting kaleidoscope of colors as the fel flames pouring from their charred sockets granted her the benefit of spectral sight. The resulting “aura map”, as she liked to call it, often times gave her a better picture of the world than her old eyes had; energy signatures lit up in burning reds, soothing greens and blues, even the odd muddy yellow as sick creatures made their way into her line of sight. Her attackers were reflected in the murky waters of Nazmir’s swamps as a blur of crimson in hot pursuit - the same color was mirrored further down the road, and Keiria’s attention snapped ahead as she saw the ambush the Blood Trolls were driving her into.

“Son of a lich!” She muttered, baring her teeth angrily at the waiting ambush. “This isn’t going to be fun, Amaroq, but we’ve got no choice…” With a despairing thought about the clean-up she’d have to do later, Keiria wrenched her mount’s head sharply to the left, forcing the wolf off the path and into the deeper waters of the swamp. Water-weeds and mud splashed liberally up to the wolf’s belly, splattering both of them with muck as they left the path. _‘The smell from this gunk will take weeks to wash out… Let’s hope the washerwomen of Dazar’Alor don’t gut me for this, I guess._ ’ She used the water as a mirror to observe her enemies as they fled. Amaroq knew his mistress well, and she entrusted the wolf to choose their path as she watched their backtrail warily - he lunged erratically through the undergrowth, weaving between islets and massive trees without pause in his efforts to lose their pursuers. Keiria watched with gratification as the angry red auras of the Blood Trolls grew to shrinking specks in the distance - they were safe, for now at least.

Releasing her tight hold on the wolf’s ruff, Keiria straightened herself out. Amaroq’s headlong sprint slowed to a gallop, and then to a tired trot, finally stopping at the sprawling roots of a huge swamp tree. Keiria heaved a sigh of relief as a brief glance around the area showed nothing more than typical swamp wildlife surrounding them - crocolisks, fish, saurid, and insects, mostly, their auras glowing a healthy, verdant green in the water - and no sign of the Blood Trolls. ‘ _We escaped, thank the Sunwell._ ’ Amaroq’s tongue lolled out of his maw, his head drooping so low it almost touched the belly-deep water; the wolf was clearly exhausted, and there was nowhere for them to rest for the night. The Demon Hunter frowned as she massaged her hands into the fur behind his ears, soothing the poor beast as she tried to think a way out of their predicament. Stranded deep in the swamps of Nazmir, surrounded by enemies, with no safe resting place in sight… It wasn’t the ideal way to spend the evening. She tiredly eyed the tree towering above them as she slid off the wolf’s back and onto a tiny bump of an islet, hoping to take at least some of the strain off his trembling limbs. ‘ _I could get myself up there to sleep safely out of the water, but Amaroq doesn’t have that luxury. And I can’t just send him out alone to fend for himself._ ’

A faint rustle in the water reeds brushed against Keiria’s sensitive ears, which twitched eagerly to try and track the noise. Too quiet for a crocolisk, larger than any insect, and the noise was distinctly _four_ -footed - so not a Saurid. Something new was stalking the wolf and rider, and Keiria wanted to know what it was. She scanned the underbrush around them, but the muddled mix of auras was too overwhelming to pick any singular individual out from the rest. Yet here and there, she could see telltale signs - the rustle of a clump of reeds, a ripple in the energy reflecting on the water’s surface, a sudden scattering of fish as a heavy paw came down into the water. Hairs prickled on the back of Keiria’s neck as she felt the scrutinizing gaze of their stalker grow more intense.

“Reveal yourself or die, beast!” She declared into the darkness, baring her teeth at the unknown entity.

A quiet hiss of sibilant laughter drifted just to her left, far too close for comfort, and Keiria whirled around, glaives out. “You truly think yourself capable?” The stranger intoned quietly, the voice ghosting seemingly out of nowhere. There were no auras nearby to account for the voice she heard just over her shoulder, and Keiria’s heart leapt to her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears as her mouth went suddenly dry with fear. Nothing should be able to deceive her spectral sight!

“I am Illidari,” she sneered, puffing her chest out proudly. “If I wish for your death, it will be so.”

“Such pride,” the voice taunted, “for a scared little Sin’Dorei. I can hear the tremble of your voice, smell the acrid scent of your fear heavy in the air. You cannot find me, little demon-elf, and you know it… Although I stand right next to you. All you need to do is reach out.” A few tense moments passed between Keiria and the stranger, and suddenly she - for the voice was distinctly female - let out another quiet gust of laughter. “Lucky for you, I have no interest in Sin’dorei tonight. It seems we’re both in the same predicament, and could benefit from helping each other, hm?”

“What do you want?” Keiria snapped, her white-knuckle grip on her warglaives loosened marginally. Perhaps she wasn’t as dead as she thought she was, but it wouldn’t pay to sheathe her weapons with a stranger so near. Prepare for every eventuality, her mentor had taught her.

“Someone to watch my back through the night, as you wish for yourself. I can even provide safe haven for your wolf, should you wish it.” The voice was firm now, no longer taunting. Keiria could hear no lie in the stranger’s words.

“Make yourself seen to me, then. I will not help a ghost.” In truth, Keiria was still rattled by the stranger’s invisibility - all through her training, she had been taught that none could hide from her spectral sight. To find something now that could was deeply unnerving.

Suddenly, the stranger was _there_ . Not in a “fade in, fade out” way - there was simply no transition. One moment Keiria was staring into empty swamp, and the next her vision was filled with a blaze of brilliant emerald. Immediately she recognized the shape - and only one type of individual can burn so bright against her sight. The stranger was a Druid. Keiria groaned, wondering which deity deemed to give her the worst luck. ‘ _Of all the Alliance races I could have encountered in this fel-forsaken swamp…_ ’

“Kal’dorei...” She grimaced, edging backwards so that she could feel the comforting warmth of Amaroq against her back. Already, she could feel the beginnings of a most unwelcome emotion bubbling up in her gut: Guilt.

“Indeed, little Sin’dorei. I am Nen’ra Leafwind.” The Night Elf flashed her a fang-filled grin, bobbing the top half of her body in a mockery of a bow. “Now, do we have a deal, or no? I don’t think either of us wishes to spend the night alone in this cursed swamp.”

Keiria considered the Night Elf carefully, her brow furrowed as she frowned at the woman. “You mentioned safety for my Amaroq? How can you do this?”

“I can open a gate to the Emerald Dreamway. Your wolf would be the only one who can spend the night there, I’m afraid - I’ve only got enough energy left to send one through. You and I can rest in the branches for the night and be safe enough, and I will return him to you when we part ways at sunrise.”

After a brief moment of consideration, Keiria nodded. ‘ _Amaroq is loyal to me - it’d be a travesty if I were to shove away a chance at keeping him safe in this blasted swamp. I don’t know if I can trust the Druid with my own life, but I must try, if only for his sake._ ’

With a flick of her wrist, a gleaming emerald portal blazed into existence. Keiria turned her head away, somewhat dazed by the light; she heard Nen’ra gently coaxing Amaroq through the gateway, promising him in words she couldn’t understand that he - and his master - would be safe until sunrise. That he’d come back to her. She felt the last of the tension slipping from her shoulders as he passed into the Dreamway safely - Alliance this Druid might be, but Keiria knew a child of Cenarius would never willingly bring harm to a wild creature. Amaroq would be safe. Without a second thought Keiria beckoned her wings to her back, feeling the appendages burst from her sounders in a gout of felfire, and leapt upwards. With a few clawing flaps at the thick, humid air, Keiria lighted onto the thickest of the tree’s branches she could reach, knowing that the Druid would follow.

Sure enough, the aura of a great cat was not long in following her. As Keiria reclined against the tree’s trunk, wings safely tucked back away into the nether-space they’d come from, she regarded her new companion. “Why couldn’t I see you?”

A few moments of awkward silence filled the air between them. “Elune,” the Druid began carefully, her voice thick with a mix of emotions Keiria couldn’t identify, “has provided safety for Her children. After the… After everything that happened, She deemed it prudent to have at least some measure of protection from your kind. So long as I wear Her talisman, I am untrackable.”

Keiria tilted her head back, horns bumping against the tree as she thought this tidbit over. “Your Goddess is benevolent,” she murmured back. “Kind. Would that the Sin’Dorei had such a benefactor.”

Nen’ra snorted harshly, and Keiria started at the suddenness of the noise. “When it suits her, yes. Elune has a track record of not interfering when we need Her help the most.” Keiria raised a slender brow at the Night Elf. Even without her sight, she could hear the hard note of scorn and derision in the Kal’dorei’s tone. Wasn’t her kind blindly devoted to their Moon Goddess? To hear such judgement was surprising, to say the least.

“The gods are not all-knowing, Nen’ra,” Keiria began, narrowing burning eyes as she considered how best to word herself. “I am not religious by nature - too much has happened in my life for me to put faith in the gods - but that doesn’t mean I don’t acknowledge their existence, or study their perceived actions. If Elune saved you every time your people were in danger, you would forget the skills you needed to survive, no? You would begin to think, ‘It is not so bad that we are under attack, for Elune will destroy our enemies’. You would become reckless, defenseless. And who are you to say Elune _didn’t_ step in, at the end? Somehow, Saurfang’s hand was stayed. Word has spread through the Horde about how the High Overlord had the chance to kill your Archdruid, and yet he didn’t. Perhaps _that_ , then, was her intervention.”

Thoughtful quiet stretched between them as the Druid mulled this over. Keiria sighed deeply, feeling the tension and worry bleed out of her limbs as she finally gave in to relative safety of their perch. The branch was more than wide enough for both of them to sit comfortably, after all, so the risk of falling was minimal. With a wry smile, she reflected silently that this is perhaps more than she’d spoken to any other in the last three moons, at least - she was not a talkative person by nature. And yet this Druid seemed to bring forward a need to confide, to fill the otherwise uncomfortable silence around them.  

After a moment of contemplation, she pulled her rations out of the pouch strapped to her hip, glad that the oiled leather had protected the contents from the water and mud they’d been tromping through all day. She took a long swig from her canteen before offering it and a trail ration bar to her erstwhile companion, who eagerly accepted it. For a while, the two ate in silence. Keiria could feel the mounting tension between them, though - the discomfort was nearly tangible, even to her.

“Why?” Nen'ra broke the silence, the edges of her aura bleeding purple as her emotions became muddled and unstable.

“‘Why’, what?” Keiria echoed dumbly, though she had an inkling about what the Druid was after.

“Teldrassil. My home, my city, my _people_. Innocents! Women and children, our whole _way of life!_ _Why_?” She shrilled, her voice rising slightly as she warmed to her topic. “You don’t seem like the monster I thought you’d be. You’re _Horde_ , but you’re not the monster my heart was telling me to expect. You  _look_ the part, but aren't acting it. Tell me _why_! Why did I have to lose everything?” Her voice broke at the end, and Keiria felt the guilt bleeding through her gut multiply tenfold, souring any appetite she had for what was left of her meager ration bar.

“I… How am I supposed to answer that? There’s nothing good I can say,” Keiria muttered darkly, drawing her knees up to her chest, her delicately clawed fingers digging into her legs. She rested her head tiredly upon them, wishing she could just bury herself. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have. “I don’t know. I don’t _like_ it. I didn’t want that to happen!” She nearly choked on the harshly whispered words, sure the Kal’dorei’s keen ears could pick up her response, muffled though it was.

“I don’t understand. Don’t you follow your Warchief? She was there. The Horde army was there, too. I know - I fought them. Your people are beasts in humanoid skin, you bring death everywhere you tread!”

“I am not them!” Keiria snapped, her teeth bared in a facsimile of a snarl as she whipped her head up to glare angrily at the elfin woman. “I was not there. Many among the Horde do not agree with the course our Warchief has steered us to.” She could feel the tension she’d just released begin to build again, her muscles ready to spring into action if her ally should prove enemy. “You think I would condone such atrocities? Such loss of life? You don’t even know me, so don’t presume my loyalties!”

“You are _Horde_ ! You have no idea what it was like to see my _home_ burning! Everything I-” Nen’ra began, her face distorted with pent-up anger.

“I AM KEIRIA BELLEROSE! Do not think to push me into the mold of a two-copper villain when you do not know me!” Keiria roared, her eyes blazing brighter for a moment, cutting the Druid off. “I _know_ what you go through! I am Sin’dorei, or did you forget? I lost my whole _life_ when the Scourge invaded my homeland! My family, my mother, my brothers, father, my _city_!” She slammed a fist into the trunk behind her, her voice husky and rough, carrying a larger-than-life echo of the demon within her, brought closer to the surface with turbulent emotion. “You speak of things you know nothing about, and should stop before we say things we’ll both regret!”

Torturous quiet loomed between them as the dust settled. Both women glared at one another, chests heaving and teeth bared as they tried to calm the adrenaline-fueled pounding of their hearts. Even the normal night-sounds of the swamp quieted - no buzzing insects or screeching saurid impeded on them, all wildlife having likely fled when the two began to shout.

“I… I am sorry,” Keiria began quietly, clenching her hands into fists in an effort to stop their shaking, though she couldn’t keep the tremble from her voice. “Truly, I am. I know your pain, I know your loss. I will live the rest of my life knowing I was not strong enough to prevent that disaster from happening,” she said, guilt twisting like a knife to her gut. While the Horde was marching on Darkshore, Keiria was aboard the Fel Hammer, honing her skills and training. She had entirely missed the call to action, something she’ll regret for the rest of her days. “What if’s” and “Should have’s” ran through her head like a mantra - had she been there, would things have turned out differently? Could she have steered the energetic Horde soldiers to more merciful outcomes, or swayed the Warchief’s brazen demand to burn the World Tree? She’d never get the chance to find out. It felt dangerously close to total failure; after the fall of the Sunwell, Keiria promised herself she’d dedicate her life to prevent another genocide like that from ever happening. In the end, she couldn’t manage that, and her failure cut sharper than any blade ever could.

A cool hand pressed itself against her knee, and Keiria looked up to see the blue-purple, sorrow-laden aura of the Druid had scooted much closer to her own aura, a horrid blue-black-purple swirl, like a festering bruise. “I’m sorry too,” Nen’ra began, and Keiria was easily able to discern the frown stretched across the woman’s face. “I… I think I was just looking to take my anger out on someone. You’re the first Horde I’ve spoken to since… Since it happened, you know?” The frown quirked into a rueful smile. “I don’t come into contact with your kind that often. I spoke brashly, and for that I apologize. But I must ask - if you don’t support what your Warchief has done, why follow her? Would it not be more prudent for you to leave?”

Keiria barked out a humorless laugh. “It’s not that simple, Nen’ra.” She recalled the faces of the soldiers in her mind - hopeful, eager, and far, far too young. “If all of us with honor leave the Horde, who remains to teach those left behind? Younglings join the army faster and faster these days, drawn in by silly empty phrases like “glory”, and the promise of gold and battle and blood. Pah! Glory is for fools. I remain with the Horde so that when all is said and done, there are still some of us old veterans left to teach the rest about honor and truth and justice.” She let out a gusty sigh, shaking her head sadly. “Surely you must have noticed that the Horde is… not in agreement, over Sylvanas’s actions. I know the Alliance’s spies must be gathering all this information, but there’s muttering, and lots of it, that we shouldn’t continue to follow down this path. The atrocities of Garrosh are still fresh in the minds of many, and we don’t want to see the Horde head down that bloody path again. Resistance stirs, but it will be slow in coming.”

Nen’ra blinked slowly. “I did not know, but then, I have been out in the wilds since Darkshore fell. I could not bear to return to the bustle of daily life when everything I knew was ash. Truly, then? There is hope?”

Keiria smiled at the woman, for the first time tonight able to convey good news. “Truly. Not all of us are lost, Nen’ra. We will fight when the time is right. Rest now; I will take the first watch, and wake you when I am too tired to continue. It’s the least I can do.” She watched as the Druid nodded, shifting into feline form for a more secure rest. The great cat stretched out along the branch, head tucked down between her front paws. Keiria had to firmly squash the impulsive desire to run her fingers through the soft-looking fur, shuddering to think of how indignant the Druid would be if she awoke to being _petted_ like a common housecat.

With a heavy sigh she settled herself in for a long night, her gaze trained unseeingly on the horizon. Nothing would harm them up so high - and if anything neared, her keen ears would hear it coming early enough to rally their defenses. With the sudden surfeit of quiet, Keiria considered her situation. She hadn’t spoken to a member of the Alliance in years - she couldn’t count the Night Elves she had met during her initiation and training, as they were rightfully _Illidari_ , no longer members of the Alliance. Of all the Alliance she could meet out in the world, it just _had_ to be her rotten luck that she ran into a Kal’dorei. Just her rotten luck that the Night Elf had survived the War of Thorns. Regardless, it was nice to have been able to voice her opinion to someone to whom it mattered - a survivor, someone who she felt was at least _owed_ that explanation.

With the telling of her own experiences with the War of Thorns, Keiria felt the sharp knife of guilt beginning to ease at long last. She let her gaze fall to the great feline laying across from her, the furred chest rising deeply and slowly with the even breaths of true sleep. Perhaps this was punishment for her failings to prevent Teldrassil’s ultimate fate - or a reward, some small way to assuage the burning guilt that twisted through her chest at the thought of her failures. She decided not to examine the possibilities too closely; Amaroq was safe, _she_ was safe, and they’d all live to see the dawn. Perhaps that was enough.


	2. Misery Loves Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keiria winds up in the “Spirits Be With You” Tavern, located down at the port of Dazar’Alor, overwhelmed by her Spectral Sight in the troll city. There, she ends up caught between a Goblin and Highmountain Tauren arguing about business ventures.

 If Keiria had to choose one word to sum up Dazar’Alor, it would be “ _chaos_ ”. The whole city, it seemed to her, was in a perpetual state of disarray - the noises, the people, everything about this supposedly grand Zandalari city was complete pandemonium. It was overwhelming. Sensitive elven ears picked up a cacophony of noise as merchants shouted their wares across the crowded bazaar, and citizens took care of the daily business of city living. Saurids and raptors screeched as they dashed between the crowds, pterrodaxx screamed across the skies, and brutosaurs bellowed and stomped. Even at night, the noises didn’t cease except to lower marginally in volume.

That didn’t even touch on the _smells_! Despite the time she’d spent here and there in the cities of the Horde, there was little Keiria could have done to prepare herself for the stink rising from the many-tiered streets. Stale urine and unwashed bodies, the scent of reptile manure, sizzling meats and spilled ale and tanning leather… Only Orgrimmar could match the offensive stench of this place, although she found herself faintly grateful that Goblins hadn’t set up any kind of encampment here. The last thing this city needed was one of their greasy, oily “resorts” tucked into the rest of the stink.

Wrinkling her nose delicately, Keiria took a cautious step forward, turning her head this way and that to try and determine her direction. She was still down by the docks, she knew that much - but Dazar’Alor was _far_ more populated than any other city she had spent a significant amount of time in since her ascension into Illidari, and it was proving… problematic. The city was not just with citizens and workers, but also the natural flora and fauna of Zuldazar, too - the combined auras of the wealth of life surrounding her was, quite literally, blinding. She shook her head, somewhat dazed, and wished (perhaps for the first time in her new life as a Demon Hunter) that she could “turn off” her Spectral Sight.

“A bit new to Dazar’Alor ta be wanderin’ around wit’a blindfold, aren’t ya, mon?” A rough voice boomed behind her, and Keiria turned to see the aura of what was obviously a Zandalari troll sparking blue-green with amusement.

She ran a hand through her short-cropped hair self consciously, grinning sheepishly at the stranger. “It was requested. It seems your people are not accustomed to Demon Hunters.” She said shortly, pulling down the edge of the soft cloth binding her eyes to reveal a flame-filled socket for a moment, her mouth quirking in a wry smile as the troll recoiled from her.

“Ah… yeah, mon. Gotta say, dat’s not… dat’s not somethin we see often, here.” The troll shivered a bit, and Keiria could hear his heart skip a beat. She wondered how the troll hadn’t instantly put her status together - it’s not like _horned, blindfolded blood elves_ with arcanely-charged tattoos wandered around frequently, after all. She certainly couldn’t hide her more demonic attributes! He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Ya still be seemin’ a bit lost though, mon. Somethin’ I can be helpin’ ya wit?”

“An inn.” Keiria grimaced. It stung her pride quite a bit to admit she needed help just walking around the city... but blinded as she was by her own Spectral Sight, she had to bow in the face of simple logic. She couldn’t go unaided.

With an affirmative grunt, the troll gently grasped Keiria by the elbow, leading her off into the crowd. True to his word, it wasn’t far at all - only a few blocks down from where she was wandering, in fact. The troll pointed things out as they passed them, filling her ears with useless chatter as he guided her to her destination, and Keiria had to do nothing more than murmur an occasional agreement or make a noise of interest to keep him talking. His descriptions left her wistful; a gleaming golden pyramid city stretching into the sky, filled with colorful dinosaurs and fantastic rainforests… ‘ _It must be an absolute wonder to see,_ ’ she thought absently, wondering what the new world she found herself in would look like.

“Here ya be, mon. _Spirits Be With You_ Tavern - Ximo may be a callous troll, but his prices be fair, and his food good. Welcome to Zuldazar!” With a cheery wave, he proceeded to shove her bodily into the tavern, and before she could thank him for his help, he’d melted back into the crowds.

Here, she noticed, the press of bodies and auras wasn’t as oppressive. Stone walls effectively blocked the bulk of the city’s noise, and something soothing brushed against her mind, dimming the glow of colors from the city beyond the Inn’s walls.  She heaved a sigh of relief and stepped up to the counter, dragging herself up into one of the obscenely-high bar stools the Zandalari seemed to favor. ‘ _They’re all so much taller,_ ’ she thought wryly. Sin’dorei weren’t tall as a race, and even among her own kind, she was short. With the addition of her sweeping horns, she still only topped out at just over five feet high. Comparatively, surrounded as she was by tauren, orcs, and now Zandalari trolls, she felt like a gnome.

Keiria let her head thunk forward onto the bar, letting the feeling of cool, polished wood take the slightest edge off the headache that pinched between her eyes. Despite the lateness of the evening, the tavern wasn’t nearly as crowded as she expected it to be. It was near full, sure, but nowhere near the capacity she’d seen a typical tavern at - especially a tavern so close to the city’s main harbor. The majority of patrons this evening, much to her relief, were fellow members of the Horde. She could hear the lilting, haughty voices of fellow Sin’Dorei drifting over the rougher, deeper tones of Tauren and Orcs, even the odd echoing rasp of a Death Knight somewhere within the building.

“For the last time, I will **not** eat _any_ of the disgusting “samples” you put under my nose! Get you gone, Goblin!” A deep voice bellowed startlingly close to her ear, making Keiria start with surprise. Breathing deeply, she scented clean earth and damp fur, marking her sudden company as one of the Horde’s relatively new recruits, a Highmountain Tauren.

“But they’re _free_ ! Who turns down free stuff, huh? Just one little bite, c’mon Rivertail! Aint we been buddies for long enough? We fought the _Lich King_ together, man! Made a ton of gold off that little music-box we found up in the Citadel, even. I remember, I even got ya a solid four-point-five percent of the profit!” A higher voice wheedled from the tauren’s other side. ‘ _That must be the goblin_ ,’ Keiria thought, wrinkling her nose at the chemical-oil-machinery smell that always seemed to linger around their kind. She wondered at the little goblin’s audacity; didn’t he know that it wasn’t wise to anger someone five times your height? An angry tauren was a formidable adversary.

“Honestly, do you even pay attention any further than your damned _coin purse_ ? My name isn’t Rivertail! _I have no idea who that is_ . I have been living peacefully on our ancestral lands for longer years than I care to count - I _never fought the Lich King_ , you bumbling fool! And let me remind you: I am a _vegetarian,_ since you didn’t seem to hear me the first five times!” The Tauren - not Rivertail, apparently - snarled back. Keiria rubbed her temples, sighing. Perhaps she’d be wise to take her company elsewhere.

After a few moments of grumbling, though, the goblin seemed to get the idea. Muttering under his breath about ungrateful customers, he moved off into the crowd, no doubt trying to find someone else to sucker into trying his newest scheme. Something heavy hit the bar with a solid _thunk_ , and a thick antler scraping along her own horn told her that the Tauren had followed her own actions, letting his head fall against the bar.

“Damned goblins, always looking for profit,” he muttered quietly, and Keiria’s ear twitched as his breath whispered across it. “Earthmother knows they’ve taken to Shamanism well enough, so why do they insist on being so belligerent? As if the _antlers_ didn’t give away that I’m not from Mulgore. Blind to anything but money, I swear.” A massive fist pounded against the bar. “Ximo, buddy, grab me a Bwonzombie. Make it a double… and a Mojo’ito for my little listener, here.” A furred shoulder shoved against her own playfully, nearly knocking her off her stool as she gazed at him with astonishment.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you, hmm? Just because that greedy little beast was distracting me doesn’t mean I wasn’t paying attention to who decided to sit next to me. It’s not often your kind come this far into the city.”

Keiria grimaced. “Yes, well, there’s a reason for that.” She shuddered, her ears drooping low with dismay. “I’m finding out the hard way, it seems.” The tauren grunted his curiosity, wordlessly encouraging her to continue. Her brow furrowed at that, frowning slightly before shrugging; it wasn’t like she had many people to talk to these days. “It’s the Spectral Sight.” She said shortly, tapping a finger idly against the bartop. “Too many living things here. The auras are overwhelming, we can’t see anything. For whatever reason, though, it doesn’t seem so bad in here… It’s as if everything is muted.” Her frown deepened as she considered this. The moment she’d entered the building, it was as if a dial was turned low, dimming the auras outside the building’s walls. She could still see them - but they were quieter, somehow. “Make no mistake, though. It’s something I’m deeply grateful for. It’s nice to be able to sit without being blinded by so many auras.”

“Ah, little demon-mon, I think ol’ Ximo got an answer for ya.” A deep voice accompanied by glass sliding across the countertop signified the bartender’s return. “It be simple, yeah? The Tiki-masks on the walls, they be blockin’ all kinds of magic and energies. I had ‘em put up to be blockin’ nosy mages from spyin’ on me patrons! De masks are filled with old, old mojo.” Keiria could very nearly hear the smirk in his voice. “Me patrons pay me handsomely for their privacy. I don’ ask what’s goin’ on when sommun’ come in to talk business, they give ol’ Ximo extra gold. It’s a good system,” the troll chuckled, leaning low over the bartop in an almost _too_ casual slouch. “And if ya be lookin’, Ximo can tell ya where ta get a bit’a voodoo of your own, yeah?”

Keiria raised an inquisitive brow, but before she could open her mouth to respond to him, the Tauren cut over her.

“Nu-uh, Ximo. None of that. I’ve been around the Darkspear long enough to know that voodoo always comes with a price, and I think this little lady has already paid _enough_ for the “gifts” she’s gotten through her life.” The tauren shook his head, placing a surprisingly gentle hand on her arm. “I know I’m not a Demon Hunter like you are, but I do know of a way to help you, if you wish it. And unlike Ximo’s… methods, it doesn’t involve questionable, potentially costly magic.”

For a moment, Keiria just fumed. She felt her cheeks flush, and inhaled sharply to give the male a piece of her mind - How dare this Tauren presume to know what she’s sacrificed? What she’s given, or whether she’d want to give more? The moment passed, though, and she let out a gusty sigh of acceptance. She wouldn’t let emotion rule her life _or_ her mouth; her sacrifices were clear to see in her horns and other demonic features. She couldn’t fault him for his observations, and it was a simple truth that not many of her kind had pleasant pasts. It didn’t take her long to think his offer over; he had a good point. Troll magic never came without a price. No power came for free.

“I would be most appreciative of your help, sir.” She nodded her head graciously at him, but raised a hand to still him when he made to rise. “But first, we’ve got drinks to finish. I don’t know what a ‘Mojo’ito’ is, but it smells fruity and delicious… and it’d be a shame to waste Ximo’s excellent service. I will survive until morning.”

The Tauren’s laughter boomed throughout the room, and Keiria noticed several patrons jump at the loud noise. “So we do! I am Kevu Cloudwalker, and I would be pleased to help you. About those drinks, then…

* * *

Dawn’s light crested _far_ too early over the pyramid-city of Dazar’Alor for Kerira’s tastes as she blearily dragged herself upright, rubbing a tired hand over her face. The Mojo’ito, as she discovered, hid a ludicrous amount of alcohol underneath its fruity smell… and Keiria had had far, far too many of them. She had vague memories of stumbling out of her barstool, something warm and furry catching her before she could injure herself, but nothing beyond that.

She examined her surroundings as best as her sleep and drink-fuzzed mind could manage - she was laying on something soft, a woven blanket was pulled up over her legs, and her surroundings were still muted. Only a single window broke up the stone walls of the room, a watery shaft of blue-green energy to marking it as an east-facing window. A quick pat-down of her body showed her armor was all still in place - as well as her wallet and bags. _‘Well, that’s a boon, at least,_ ’ she thought with some relief, knowing that cities like these were typically home to more pickpockets than she could count.

A loud snore made her jump, and a quick glance at the floor revealed the tauren she had spent the evening with, his aura softly glowing and shifting through a myriad of colors as his emotions tumbled this way and that through whatever he was dreaming about. As she sat and mulled over her surroundings and how she got here, the haze began to lift from her mind, and the headache she’d struggled with last evening reared its ugly head. With a quiet groan, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, testing her weight on unsteady limbs as she stumbled into a standing position. ‘ _Gotta find something for this headache,_ ’ she grumbled, knowing the heavy horns sprouting from her forehead were certainly not _helping_ the searing ache between her eyes. A few stumbling steps were all she could manage, however, before she tripped and fell with an undignified yelp. ‘ _Who knew being hung-over and sleepy would make someone clumsy?_ ’ she thought irately. A deep chuckle froze her in place.

“I didn’t think you’d fall for me this fast,” a sleepy slur tickled Keiria’s ears as the tauren’s strong arms wrapped around her torso to steady her. She tugged backwards with an embarrassed grunt, but was stopped abruptly as her horns tugged painfully against her skull, tangled up with the male’s in her graceless tumble. She felt her cheeks warm with a heated blush at their compromising position - ‘ _Of all the awkward shit that could have…!_ ’’ Her ears drooped low with shame and embarrassment.

“I’m terribly sorry, I -” she began, all trace of her hangover-haze burned out of her mind at this point.

“It’s of no consequence, little one.” He rumbled, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “I know how hard it is to get up in the morning after one of Ximo’s concoctions. He puts enough booze in a drink to knock a dwarf on their ass, and you’d never know it. Now if you just stay very still for me…” It took several minutes of uncoordinated fumbling, but eventually he managed to disentangle them, and led her gently out into the common room. Keiria smiled softly at his treatment of her - it wasn’t often one could look past her demonic attributes to treat her so politely. The male was an absolute gentleman. “Now, I think I owe you some explanations. And food, and perhaps an apology.”

Breakfast, as it turned out, was a massive platter spread with more food than Keiria could ever finish on her own. Remembering his assertions from the previous night, Keiria scooped up all the eggs, bacon, and sausage that the platter had to offer, as well as a piece of toasted bread, leaving behind more breads, fruits, and some grilled vegetables for her new friend. He shot her a grateful grin before they both dug in, and he offered the promised explanations. Nothing untoward had happened whatsoever - she did remember correctly that he’d caught her when she fell off her stool, which had her cheeks flushed again as she thought of how much of a fool she’d made of herself the previous night - he’d simply rented them a room, placed her into the bed, and claimed the floor for himself. It was nothing more than him trying to keep her safe.

It didn’t take them long to polish off the breakfast platter - Keiria was much hungrier than she thought she’d be, honestly - and soon the tauren had a gentle hand on her arm, guiding her out into the tavern and back into the riotous crowds of the city.

“I’m curious,” she risked a glance up at Cloudwalker, trusting that he’d lead her true without her having to look ahead, “as to what your ‘offer’ entails? You said it wasn’t as costly as Ximo’s, but I of all people know that all power comes at a cost. Surely such an boon as better managing my Spectral Sight would not be free?”

Cloudwalker chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “Ah, but I never said anything about it being free, did I?” He deftly wove them in and around the crowds bustling around the early-morning market, and she took a moment to admire the way his aura went still and dim as he contemplated his words. “It will still involve work. _Hard_ work, at that. It just won’t have some stupid curse or sacrifice as a trade-off, like troll magic usually does. I’m taking you just outside the city, where we’ll be meeting up with someone who can help you. He helped me, anyways… I don’t see why he wouldn’t be able to help you.”

Keiria’s brow furrowed as she took a moment to process what he just said. “Why would you have needed the same kind of help?”

“Ah! Forgive me, little miss. I didn’t realize we hadn’t spoken of it yet - I am a monk, trained in the Way of the Tiger. Though my aura-sensing ability is nowhere near on your level, as it isn’t demonically… augmented, it is fairly strong. We use the sensing of auras in combat, mostly, but it is simply a natural byproduct of the meditation required for our arts.”

“Ah, I see,” she breathed a sigh of relief as they crossed the western bridge exiting the city, leaving the worst of the chaos behind them. “This teacher of yours is a monk, then?”

“Yes. While our aura-sensing is a byproduct of meditation, those same techniques can also be applied to _taming_ the ability.” Cloudwalker fidgeted for a moment, clearing his throat. Keiria looked up at him curiously, sensing his discomfort. “I, ah… I may have sent off a message in warning last night, so he’d know to anticipate you. I hope this doesn’t bother you.”

It was Keiria’s turn to shrug nonchalantly. “I’m a Demon Hunter. We typically get negative reactions from people. I’m not too worried.” She let a smile tug at the corners of her lips as she watched him relax with her statement. ‘ _Was he expecting me to be upset?_ ’

A hand appeared in her field of view, effectively blocking her from continuing. “We’re here,” he said quietly, and Keiria could see his energy spike as his nervousness grew. Keiria let a frown tug at the corners of her lips. Why would he be nervous about seeing his master?

Turning her attention ahead, she noticed he’d brought them to a small rise just beyond the city, curtained away from the chaos by a sheltering screen of vines and giant flowers. Before them was a small campfire, flickering brightly orange in the mostly green space. A cool blue figure stepped forward, inclining his head respectfully at her. Keiria tried not to gape - his aura was overwhelmingly, impressively, _neutral_. Typically, living creatures surged and dimmed with the sways of their mortal hearts, pushed to one extreme or the other. This one, however, was as quiet as a still pond. His aura was even, not too dim or bright, reflecting serenity on his surroundings. She knew Pandaren were well known for their placid demeanors, but this was remarkable even for one of their kind. Keiria fumbled into a deep bow, instinctively giving her respect to the stranger before her. She could feel Cloudwalker bowing similarly at her side.

“Master,” he started after straightening, “this is the one I told you about. She’s having aura-related troubles, just as I did.”

“Yes, Kevu. I received your message this morning, bright and early. Rise, Sin’Dorei, and let me get a good look at you.” His voice was gruff, but kind, and Keiria did as instructed, standing still as the Pandaren took her in. She did her best not to squirm under his scrutiny - but  then, she’d always had trouble remaining still when under inspection, even for her own teachers. “It is well, little one. You carry many scars, but we can work well together, I think. Now, your name?”

“Keiria Bellerose, sir,” she said quietly. “I… Cloudwalker said you knew a way to reduce the overwhelming effects of the auras I see. They’re blinding, master - I can hardly function in Zandalar.  At first I had thought that perhaps he meant you’d have some kind of amulet or blindfold to assist me, but…” She let herself trail off, not sure how to explain herself to the Master Monk.

A deep, warm chuckle reverberated through his chest. “I could imagine so, Miss Bellerose. I am Master Riverpaw. I must say, when Kevu sent a note saying he had a Demon Hunter for me to train, I did not take him seriously. I should have.” After a moment of quiet contemplation, the Pandaren sighed deeply, running a clawed hand through his thick beard. “I can help. It will not be easy, surely - but what I would teach you would be worth more than any trinket. Trinkets, amulets, those can be ripped away in battle, leading you blinded when you least expect it. Pah! No, I will teach you the _Monk_ way of calming your inner eye.   Ah, but I think your kind calls it “Spectral Sight”? I am sure Kevu told you about how Monks can easily sense the auras of those surrounding us, as a byproduct of our meditation? What I wish to teach you is a similar technique. It would allow you to at the very least _dim_ the strength of your vision. A Monk can learn to “turn off” the ability entirely, rendering auras invisible, but I do not know how your Spectral Sight differs from what we do, so I will not guarantee you could entirely de-activate the ability. Regardless, it _can_ be tamed, but it will take serious effort on your part. You must - and please pardon the expression - confront your inner demons,” he finished with a chuckle.

Keiria felt the tension run out of her as the Pandaren told her his intentions. This would not be as costly or difficult as she had initially thought. “I’m no stranger to hard work, Master. I will gratefully accept any training you are willing to give.”

With an undignified huff, the Pandaren collapsed into an easy seat next to the fire, patting an empty cushion. “Well then! Take a seat, and we’ll get started. But… Maybe not until I’ve had a mid morning snack,” he finished with a hearty chuckle, and Keiria’s keen ears caught the rumbling of his stomach. With a wry smile, she collapsed onto the cushion he’d indicated. This was sure to be a long journey, but it would undoubtedly be worth it in the end. She’d conquer her Spectral Sight - and open up a world of opportunities in Zuldazar afterwards. ‘ _This island, the creatures here - it is a hidden treasure, and I must first master_ myself _, but after that… Ah, after that, the adventures I can have!_ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place before "Up a Tree" - chronologically, this is right after she first arrived in Zuldazar. As for the in-game inspiration for this story? A goblin and Highmountain Tauren were RPing in an Inn I stopped at to rest at and restock on food. The Tauren was vehemently arguing about how he was a vegetarian and wouldn’t eat any meat-based concoction the Goblin tried to shove at him. The argument was hilarious - the two were excellent RP'ers, and it was a pleasure to take a seat at one of the chairs and just listen in. (And as a side note, both the "Bwonzombie" and "Mojo'ito" are real, purchasable in-game drinks - and Ximo sells both!)
> 
> I have, as of the time of writing this, let my subscription lapse. I've been working on this story since November, but my waning interest in the game and reduced time to play thanks to work have made maintaining my sub less appealing. There's a free-to-play weekend coming up in which I'll hop back on, and I -do- have a 60-day timecard that I am considering using... and I still have plenty of saved up material for stories to continue writing with! I hope to have another chapter up within a month or two. Reviews or comments would be welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> "Up a Tree" was loosely inspired by my very first time questing in Nazmir. I had run through a Blood Troll camp on my mount, aggro'd more than intended, and kept running down the path... right into another camp, without realizing it. I swerved off into deeper water to try and outrun them, and when I did, I started hearing the swoosh-y stealth noises. It really was a female Night Elf druid, in cat form, walking circles around me; I was low health, and I saw healing spells flash on them despite their being full health - the bab tried to heal me, and while it didn't work, it did make me smile that they tried. They then proceeded to /spit on me a few times and leave. It was heartwarming.


End file.
